


Useless

by thethinkingfruit



Series: Petunia of Hoshido [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Baby Realms, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 03:12:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10608093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethinkingfruit/pseuds/thethinkingfruit
Summary: Shura witnesses his wife deal with doubt in the traditional way: fussing about stuff.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! This is cross posted on my tumblr! It's featuring my Birthrights MU, Petunia. Feel free to check out her small tag I've got going [here!](http://thethinkingfruit.tumblr.com/tagged/petunia)

          "I'm sick of feeling useless!"     

          The declaration was soft, whispered into the night air, probably just meant to be heard by the furniture, the stars, and the moon, but Shura heard it anyways. Shura had been asleep for a while—but it was hard to sleep when his wife was squirming uncomfortably besides him. She had slowly roused him from his uneasy slumber by cursing under her breath, trying to re-arrange the blanket and pillows, and now, try to sit up and move. The small declaration came after she had failed for the third time to get up on her own, and Shura was completely awake.

          "Petunia?” he asked, sleep leaking into his voice. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, the cold air riling goosebumps on his skin. He realized without looking that in her tossing and turning, Petunia had managed to steal the blankets.  Sleepily, he reached out and found her arm, and then took her hand, before his eyes slowly. “What’s wrong, my love? Can’t sleep?”

          Perturbed, Petunia only scowled. Half of the blankets covered her, and a few of the pillows had been knocked from beneath her head. Petunia’s soft red hair was tussled by sleep but her eyes were sharp, glaring at him half-heartedly. Under her breath, she grumbled, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

          “It’s hard not to wake me lately,” Shura replied. His gentle smile relaxed Petunia somewhat, and he leaned down, pressing a kiss against her temple. “Can’t sleep? Or is the baby keeping you up?”

          Petunia grumbled again, hands trailing down to her swelled middle. “He keeps kicking, so I was going to get up and walk around, thinking it would calm him down. But…I couldn’t get up.” She flailed, stuck in the soft feather-filled mattress. “I don’t like this mattress Camillia got us. I can’t get up!”

          “You were the one who said we should use it,” Shura said gently. Petunia’s pout grew. “Perhaps our little one isn’t fond of Nohr’s luxuries.”

          Petunia looked at her belly. “Mama wants sleep,” she said fiercely. “So settle down! Now you’ve woken Papa!” Then she winced, and held her belly. “Oh for the love of—I give up.” She flopped back completely, sprawling her arms and legs out so she looked like a starfish. “He won’t settle down.”

          Shura sighed and settled next to her. It was easy to move his wife so she was cradled next to him, head settled against his shoulder, and he rested a hand on her stomach. He could feel the baby kicking—sharp, fast, and insistent, like they were already excited to see the world and wanted out now. He hushed them slightly, drawing his thumb across the fabric of the soft pink robe she had donned for bed.

          “Let your mother rest,” he told the baby. “You’ll be able to kick your little feet all you want once you’re out into the world.” He waited a few moments, and the baby went still. Petunia groaned and covered her eyes.

          “I’m going to be useless as a mother, Shura. I know it. I’m already—I’m already useless at court and now _this._ ”

          Shura shook his head, laughing slightly. “You’re not useless. You led the attack on Nohr, after all. You’re a brilliant, beautiful strategist—a kind, benevolent individual, who can be counted on to be the voice of reason for future diplomacy missions. It’s perfectly normal to take some time off when you’re going to be bringing a new life into the world. Besides, you’re almost at court every other day.”

          “Shura,” Petunia said, with a tone of which you would use with a child explaining why they could not have desert before dinner, “I can’t even get up. I’m so—fat and bloated that I need your help getting around. I can’t calm our baby before he’s out of the womb. Right now, I’m useless.”

          “You’re such a pessimist.” Shura held her close. “It’s going to go fine. You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”

          “But you’re biased,” Petunia replied.

          "Perhaps, but it’s still the truth.”

          Shura’s hand still rested on Petunia’s belly. He felt the baby kick again and he sighed. Petunia groaned, “Not again.”

          “Such energy!”

          “Maybe he’ll wear himself out. C’mon. We’re both up now—let’s go for a walk in the garden. Maybe that will settle him down and I can get some sleep.”

          Shura nodded, and went to help Petunia sit up. She waved him away.

          "Oh, no. I can do this.”

          Shura watched in amusement for a few minutes as Petunia finally managed to get herself in a semi-sitting position, propped on her elbows. She panted, face going red, as she tried to get up fully.

          “I cannot do this. Help.”

          Shura got up and helped pull her to her feet, off of the imported Norhian mattress Petunia’s sister sent. Petunia held onto his arm and steadied herself, leaning back slightly to accommodate for the weight. Her hands fell on her stomach again, and she nodded. “There. Told you I could do it.”

          “Of course,” Shura replied with a smile. She took his arm and they slowly walked. “I believed in you the entire time.”

    “Oh, shut up.”

    There was no bite in her voice, and Shura could see a small, embarrassed smile in the pale moonlight. He leaned in, pecked her cheek, and led her to the gardens.


End file.
